And now, my Bored of The Yuga verse

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  Realize my mad song of Loud Balyogeshwar
  
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  Who marketed devotees to travel wide and far
  
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  He shouted "Take this Knowledge - I reveal peace for free"
  
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  (And Buy the Way: A Lifetime's Devotion give to me.)
  
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  Royal, that is.
  
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  Krishna Gold.
  
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  Rawat Glee.
  

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  Well, I heard about the Mission in my 2nd year in school
  
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  My peers' said "Truth is free - man, don't be a fool!"
  
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  They said "Kali Yuga is the age you want to flee"
  
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  So I vacuumed floor of Ashram to be a new Premie.
  
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  Toil, that is.
  
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  All Weak.
  
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  SWAT-sang.
  

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  This Knowledge was the cure for any karmic scar -
  
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  Dogma? Amnesia? Remember Who You Are!
  
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  Mahatmas said: Want Bliss? Prostrate to Shri Sant Ji.
  
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  My forehead's on the rug, I'm allergic to Bhakti!
  
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  Yoga, that is.
  
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  Baragons.
  
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  Wave candle.
  

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  I wanted more, in '74, I heard of 'IHQ'
  
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  DLM building where they live for Satguru
  
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  I volunteer for charity, but World Peace tempted me:
  
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  to hell with UNICEF, moved West at age 20.
  
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  Denver, that is.
  
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  Fool's gold,
  
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  Premie Ji.
  

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  6 years on, the Mecca is: Miami. Get a tan.
  
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  Go swimming after Serve-Us? Holy Name, Atman!
  
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  W drove all night from Denver, drinking black coffee,
  
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  Maharaji's playing Holi? You need optics to see.
  
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  Babies, we is.
  
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  In tents, cold.
  
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  Kissimmee.
  

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  Serve-Us! On his Aircraft! To His hanger towed...
  
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  Secret business DECA, where Premies spoke in code
  
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  "41" meant Darshan, "9" was Beans tonite -
  
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  Undernourished Slaves. It's Plane this isn't right.
  
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  Broke, that is.
  
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  Poverty.
  
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  Sleep in Car.
  

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  Common senses shook me, God, please help me mend.
  
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  This Mission drilled me softly. Brainwashed by my 'friends.'
  
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  I went back to my home state to get B.A. degree,
  
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  My salary shot up 10 grand; peace with family.
  
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  Confidence, that is.
  
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  OK to think.
  
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  Blind, see?
  

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  Then, Programs were recorded, which Visions sent to town.
  
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  Selected Premies shlepped the tapes and tubes around
  
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  Hours spent in community rooms at Library -
  
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  All the driving effort; few Aspirants you see.
  
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  Cult, it is.
  
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  Same old faces.
  
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  Ask Them Why?
  

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  What did I experience? Emotions (He can speak)
  
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  Occasionally remembered heart bliss (when I seek)
  
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  The 4 techniques? I feel good, but it's inside of me -
  
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  Meditation Teacher: with Personality.
  
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  One of 30, that is.
  
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  Hindu trip:
  
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  Buys a car.
  

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  What will I miss most? Travel and the fun
  
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  of Being - on the Ocean of Illusion (in the Sun)
  
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  'Going Inside' at big convention halls is hard -
  
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  So are the monthly payments of my Visa credit card.
  
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  16% that is.
  
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  3 grand.
  
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  Still I pay.
  
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  Lots of tapes and photos, see how the Fat Guru!
  
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  Discourse for Dedication, Repetition made it True....
  
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  But after 24 years, It's clear this Guru's boat -
  
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  is circling his Residence. That "Ocean"... is a Moat!
  
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  Chit-wreaked, that is.
  
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  Now Kabir this:
  
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  No Arti.
  
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  PS: On May 2 I found this 'Ex - Premies' web page...
  
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  Learned of other Journeys, and your tips were sage.
  
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  Sent copies to Maharaji, Visions and Elan -
  
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  On May 12, India exploded Non-Peace Bombs!
  
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  Peace - where is?
  
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  Satsang Told.
  
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  Divine might?
  

I first discovered the ex-premie.org site just before Christmas of this year (1999) and devoured large chunks of it. I have read all of the journeys. Each one seemed to release more and more memories of my days in the premie houses of NW Portland, OR. I especially enjoyed Father Love's journey. He was right. We did eat it all up and shit it all out night and day. And, we loved it.

For me, that was about twenty seven years ago. After being discharged from the US Navy in '71 I lived for a short while with my dying father in Houston before moving up to Oregon. My foster family lived in Mt. Angel. They put me up for a while and my foster dad got me job in the turkey plant in Salem.

By late spring or early summer of '72 I established myself in a large house in Silverton, a small community about 30 minutes south of Portland. I rented the rooms out to college kids, mostly. We were all attending the now defunct Mt. Angel community college, partying, doping and generally enjoying life to the hilt. I was surviving on GI bill money and the odd jobs on the local farms and in the food processing plants in the area.

Our house was commonly known as 'the crazy house' on Water Street. We had bad plumbing, no carpets, no plaster or paint on most of the walls and there was always dog shit on the floor in the main living area. But that was all okay. There was always plenty of food in the house and we all had our own rooms. This 'lifestyle' continued for me until spring of '73.

One day some of the gang came back from a trip up to Portland talking about this kid from India who was some kind of guru or teacher or something. I couldn't really make too much sense out of what they were talking about. It was obvious that some of them were really taken up with it and others weren't too sure. Then something kind of weird happened.

I have had on a number of occasions in my life those odd strange moments when I know that somehow someway my life was about to shift and change. I had one then when one of my friends showed me a poster with maharaji's picture on it. As I read the words on the poster everything seemed to stop. The lord was here. Truth would be revealed. There was an answer and an end to pain and loneliness. The universe shrank down and became the picture on the posture. The very next evening I went with my friends up to Portland and experienced satsang for the first time.

Because I had expressed such an interest in going, one or two of my friends opened up a lot more about what was going on. They had been going to satsang for a couple of days and seemed to know a lot about who maharaji was and what the whole thing was about. As a result of that and the feelings I experienced from reading the poster, I had already started to form some strong feelings about maharaji and knowledge. Those feelings almost caused me to stand up and walk out of that first satsang.

Those first premies I saw were clean cut, sappy, happy young people who all filed out onto the stage with hands folded in prayer. There was also a large picture of maharaji there. Then one of them introduced a mahatma somebody or other. When he walked out on the stage all of the premies bowed down to him! That's when I almost walked out. I had this instant concept form that they should only be bowing down to the guru. After all wasn't HE supposed to be god almighty? Who the hell was this other guy? Then, the mahatma started to speak about the guru and the knowledge.

The room filled with light. I was hooked. It was beautiful. It was all I had ever wanted. It was TRUTH! The encounters I had with the guru over the next few months were even more powerful! At that time I did not have any idea of what knowledge was. I just knew that I had to have it.

I started driving up to Portland at least twice a week to attend satsang. I wanted to receive knowledge, but on the few times there was a mahatma in town I wasn't ready to ask for it. There were some small doubts in my mind, it seems. Some of my friends did receive. Of course they wouldn't tell me what IT was.

Some things I remember about my quest for knowledge:

Back in Oregon getting a student loan to go to India:

Going to India:

Finally, the long flight to India. Nice Flight but I won't go into that here.

Then India! Afternoon layover in Bombay. I had met up with an American businessman on the flight. We decided to take a walk around Bombay after lunch. When we met in the lobby he was all dressed in red and I in blue. As we walked around the city we were amazed by what we saw. The beggars were out in force and the extreme poverty was almost overwhelming! At least to our Western eyes. There was a small boy walking with his father. When he looked up and saw me, he started pointing and shouting, "Krishna! Krishna!" The combination of wearing all blue and having long dark hair must have really sparked the child's imagination!

Flew on to New Delhi late that afternoon and spent the night in a cheap hotel. The next morning I went looking for the Prem Nagar Ashram. I did not have a clue that it wasn't in or around New Delhi! I hired a taxi to take me to maharaji. We drove around half the day and finally found an ashram. It was one of maharaji's ashrams. Maharaji's oldest brother Bal Baghwan Ji (always made me think of Bubba Grungy!) had apparently arrived just before I did.

As I got out of the taxi this is what occurred: some spacey premie told me that I had to take off my shoes to enter the ashram grounds, the coarse gravel hurt my feet, I looked down the driveway, babaghwanji was giving darshan, light was coming out of his head, I noticed that the gravel was not hurting my feet anymore and looked down, I was levitating, babaghwanji whipped his head around to look at me, I lowered myself back to the ground but the gravel no longer pained, then I walked on into the ashram grounds. After exploring the ashram for a few minutes went back outside and sat down in a side entryway. I could feel babaghwanji and then see (through the solid wall) him walking towards me from around the corner. Before he came any closer I sent him a mental message that I did not come all the way from the other side of the planet to see him, but to see maharaji and to leave me alone. He stopped and turned around and left.

Later that day I boarded the train with a bunch of other premies and finally went on to prem nagar. Upon our arrival there the word was that m and the holy family would be doing a procession along the canal behind the ashram. We were told to line up along the canal if we wanted to gaze upon them.

After the procession maharaji went on the top deck of the ashram and waved his arms around for a few minutes. I saw him go up there and start to wave then everything began to turn into a swirl of light with a little dark dot in the middle. Then maharaji left the ashram and never came back during the entire two weeks I was there! From my experiences in California and this experience I began to develop a feeling that he couldn't face me! Funny isn't it? Most premies would feel that they were unworthy! Not me! Ha!

I got into a knowledge session within a couple of days. The session was extremely anticlimactic, to say the least! Nothing and I mean nothing happened. No Light. No Music. No Word. No Nectar. Nada, zip, nothing happened! There was one other person getting k and he was blown away!

Anyway.. I hung around the ashram doing service and talking to people and working up the courage to shit! You can only appreciate that if you were there! The toilets were all open air and outdoors. They were made out of rammed earth or terra cotta clay or something! The REEK! The FLIES! The unholy SHITTINESS!

One other event happened for me at prem nagar. One afternoon as I was walking around the ashram grounds I happened upon an Indian brother who had setup a little outdoor barbershop. Two English brothers had just had shaves. They were quietly complaining to each other how bad a barber the Indian guy was and how bad their shaves were. But, I had already sat down on the barber stool and asked for a shave. I heard a zinging noise and looked down. The barber's hands were so callused from a lifetime of manual labor that he was able to strop (sharpen) the razor on the palm of his hand! I just smiled, leaned my head back, and went into samhadi! The barber finished my shave and would not take any money from me. The two English brothers were standing there somewhat perplexed. When I asked them if they spoke Hindi they said yes. It seems that the barber was refusing to take money from a mahatma, me! Too rich!

I left prem nagar and India and went home to Silverton, OR. Then I moved up to Portland - got kicked out of the Crazy House for being an insufferable premie! Ha! Moved up to Portland and into a premie house. Met and married my wife (a premie) a year later. We rented our own house and a few years later we bought a house I Aurora, OR just south of Portland. After having two children and being a householder for about five years, I just grew out of needing to be a premie.

I remember my oldest daughter at about the age of three or four wouldn't kiss the feet. She just looked at m as if he were a piece of crap!

Now it is the year 2000. My wife left me with two children over twelve years ago. The kids are grown and gone. I'm a grandpa. I work on computers as an Oracle Database consultant. My mother died last year.

What else? I still meditate but not on k. I still see light coming out of myself and other people. I never used the k technique of poking the fingers in the eyeballs. I didn't need to.

Today I do not believe in god, jesus, buddha, religion, gurus, heaven, hell, the end of the world, evolution, the big bang, preachers, teachers, or much of anything that purports to be THE ANSWER.

I like love and kindness.

I do not care if I live or die! But since I am alive, supposedly, I try to enjoy all aspects of life.

MY ADVICE - TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT ;-)

Laugh when you're happy

Life is a mystery - sweet and sublime!

Well that's about it for now!
Peace and Love to us all!

Reedo
I found this site and saw a question about a premie band Jiva. I'm the drummer and I never had trouble with GMJ. Jiva was outside of the comunity and GMJ liked it. When an ashram premie asked him "what if she wanted to stay out late or smoke a joint? and he said " go live with the Jiva's. She did and house vote let her. Thats when I moved out.

As for Jiva, Lanning is in NY working and is on the road with Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Hilton is a producer in Woodland Hills, Strauss is producer/director/writer in LA. Pearsal is working with Tom Hiltons nephew, Tyler Hilton, Haulter is playing Keyboards in Burbank and I'm playing more percussion than drums in Winon, Mn.

So I write this because the GMJ trip was what you made it. We used it as a reason to do road trips. Others gave it the same BS as any religion. Cult? Come on, they're all cults.

Reedo

Robin Reily

I received knowledge on Sept 21, 1973 in New Haven Ct. My mother had been a premie about a year at this point. She got involved with Maharaji through a close friend named Gerhard who was a language major at Columbia University. He had translated and published the Heart and Diamond Sutras from the original Sanscrit a few years before and was friends with an inlaw of my cousins. He would come up to the Catskill Mountains,(about 20 miles north of Woodstock) to escape the City and visit. He had travelled extensively, living in a monastary in Taiwan, treking the Himalayas, etc. He was and still is a very spiritual soul. Before returning to Germany in the early 80's to raise a family, he snuck into China to do missionary work for Guru Maharaji. It was probably his spirituality that I was drawn to, more than Maharaji's, who of course was not exactly accessible to a 16 year old street kid from upstate New York. There were probably 10 or 12 of us in our little group who were seeking enlightenment in various ways, and Gerhard really felt he had found his true path through Maharaji. My mother attended satsang at various ashrams in the New York area with Gerhard and received knowledge sometime in 72.

I was searching very sincerely for truth at this point in my life, having had my dance with drugs, sex and rock and roll and needed something to anchor my life. I started attending satsang at an ashram in Poughkeepsie and made a trip to NYC to hear various speakers, and met Gurucharnanand who had been a disciple of Maharaji's father. He was travelling thru NY and New England visiting the ashrams and I fell in with some gypsie premies who were following him from town to town (kind of like Dead Heads). After a few weeks I ended up in New Haven and received knowledge near Yale University. Gurucharnanand told a story that always stuck with me, and if true may shed light on my next incarnation. He said that if a Mahatma leads you into devotion to a false Perfect Master, then the Mahatma will reincarnate as a snake, and his followers will come back as ants and devour him. I guess that's not so bad as long as you are not the Mahatma!

I was going to hitchike back to the Catskills after receiving knowledge,and was looking forward to the adventure, but the Mission was trying to maintain a clean cut image at this point and recomended that I have my mother come and pick me up, which she did. I attended the big shindig at the Astrodome that November and did not see any flying saucers, but I did get to debate with every vocal religious group I can think of who were trying to lure us away from Maharaji to follow their own particular path. There were Baptists, Seventh Day Adventists, Hari Krishnas, Mormons, Jehovas Witnesses, and probably a lot more groups who were very concerned with our souls. Being young and full of energy, I ended up spending alot of time at the loading docks unloading trucks, and supposedly being on the lookout for some guy who had made a death threat and was supposed to be coming in a Ford station wagon to test Maharaji's immortality in a concrete way.

It was here that I started to see the political hierarchy, and ran into the "holier than thou" elite of the movement. Up until then most of my contact had been with the sincere recently converted who were really looking for truth. I started to see the same egotistical,power hungry trips that had led me away from western religion in the first place. I flew back home and gradually lost touch with the organized parts of the scene. I used the techniques for a few years, and watched from the sidelines as the whole thing seemed to unravel around Maharaji. I met a lot of great people during that time who were only looking for the truth, whatever that may be, and who seem to be awakening once again, wondering where this world is heading. We still ask the same questions but are content to have the universe reveal it's secrets on it's own without needing an "Official Certified Spokesperson" to give us the Knowledge.

Paul Richards

Jai Sat Chit Anand all ex-premies! I received K in 1975 after many soul searching years. I was literally blissed out with M and could hardly contain my desire for darshan and realisation (which he did promise). However after many years of practice Satsang, Service and Meditation I began to realise that M is not all he professed to be. I found myself unable to discuss ANY topic with non-premies apart from propagation of K. I began to feel that I was in fact in a state not of bliss, but ISOLATION.

Ms tapes and videos and promises of visits to England became my whole lifes purpose and raison d'etre. I had previously experimented with LSD and other psychedelic substances and felt that even though I was practising fervently, the Light, Music, and Nectar were not a GIFT from Maharaji but an inherent part of ME! A favourite mantra of Ms was "Let us make potentiality actuality" so I did.

My Realisation came as a bolt out of the blue. I had potential already. Satsang only served to shut me up! We are ALL sentient beings on this planet searching for our own Inner KNOWLEDGE. No one person has the right to say that they are the sole purveyors of this Knowledge which is what M and his well-heeled Mahatmas were intending to do. I am now out of DLM or EV or whatever other name this crazy cult comes up with and I am blissfully happy in the knowledge that M will have no more of my devotional service.

To all premies and ex-premies I leave this message - "Know Thyself". Dont be fooled by leaders who proclaim the divine right to know you better than you know yourselves. You are unique,wonderful FREE souls.

Give Me the Reins to Your Life and I will Give you Peace remember that?

I was trolling the Net and found this page. I was surprised, to say the least. For me, knowledge was everything. Knowledge was my whole life. As I remember, it was after he got rid of the ashrams and the community centers was when things started falling apart. What happened? Nobody seems to know. For some reason, I thought that in the end....Guru's grace would make it all work. But it didn't and life moves on. I really felt a strong connection to gmj and I'd had some very incredible experiences around him. But a guru has got to do more than just talk the talk...Everyone must be responsible for their actions and gmj must account for his own. But he sure has done well for himself considering that he didn't finish the ninth grade!